


Wishful Thinking

by chimaeracabra



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Love, Pillow Talk, Romance, dad!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9699440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: Conversations between Bucky and his wife.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Secrets Aren't for Keeping](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799851) by [chimaeracabra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra). 



> I dunno why these keep popping into my head. I finished writing Secrets Aren't for Keeping around this time in 2015, but occasionally, I get these little vignettes in my imagination and I just have to write them down somewhere. I spent a lot of time being unable to fantasize about ANY guy after my breakup in November a few months ago. I just fucking resent all men (and really still do). But this past week, my Bucky obsession has come back to life. I also just totally melt over guys being good dads. I think it's adorable.

           "You know I miss you," Bucky says on the other line, and Cherise can tell that he's smiling. She blushes, wondering whether he's sitting in the car or locker room with Steve. She assumes he's sitting where someone can hear him, as he lowers his voice, "And I just wanna take you home, lay you in bed, and make love to you. All night." Cherise crosses her legs under her desk, instantly wet. She sighs, wishing he were in her office right then to bend her over her desk.

          "Oh yeah?" she says seductively, tapping her ballpoint pen on the mahogany.

          "Yeah, Cherry."

          "Well then, baby, I'm sorry to remind you that I'll be home late again." She can picture him furrowing his brows with frustration. Bucky sighs.

          "Come _on_ , Cherry. It's already five thirty—"

          "You know I told you this morning," she says eying the reminder popping up in Outlook regarding her meeting on a new toxin antidote she'd been working on.

          "Sorry, James…don't wait up for me." She says this knowing that he will. The latest she's been at work before was eleven PM a week ago, and Bucky had literally showed up at the compound asking around until a janitor helped him locate her in the forensics lab where she'd lost track of time. He _never_ goes to sleep without her, without knowing where she is and what she's doing. No, never. Bucky is far too protective to go to bed before his wife gets home.

          In all honesty, she had silenced her phone after he called her three times, promising she just needed another half hour before coming home; this research was time sensitive. It had shocked her to see Bucky knocking from the outside of the lab's glass walls, peering in while the janitor used his access card to open the doors. Needless to say, he was furious, but it only came out as concern and worry as he practically dragged her away from the fume hood after waiting impatiently with his arms crossed when she said she just had to finish cleaning up.

          Bucky had been dropping Christina off at school in the mornings, giving Cherise time to do her runs before heading to work. He has been doing _so_ much lately, and this conversation causes her to realize how intense he is as a father and husband, and that maybe she's been working too hard. But Cherise had jumped headfirst at the opportunity to gain scientific insight from Dr. Banner, who had made a miraculous reappearance within the past few months. Nobody understood the mechanisms of toxins quite the way that Banner did, and his research had been giving Cherise testable ideas that she figured could prove more than useful.

          She decided, after fighting with Bucky about her 13-hour days on the ride home, that she would try to wake up earlier to have more lab time.

          "Will you _please_ try to be home by curfew?" he asks. Yes, Bucky had given Cherise a _curfew_ , but Cherise knows it's not because Bucky is controlling, it's because she had caused him to lose his peace of mind that night she worked so late, making him wonder why she stopped answering the phone. She doesn't blame him, and it had stung deeply when he told her there were starting to be complete days where their daughter never got a chance to see her mother. That was what caused Cherise to slow down…a little bit. She was still getting home by the time Christina was asleep.

          "I will."

          "I don't understand why you gotta work so damn late—"

          "Some of the tests that I run are time sensitive," she says, knowing he'd blocked that information out before. Bucky sighs.

          "I'll be home _by_ eight o'clock—no later," Cherise states with determination.

          "Are you _sure_? 'Cause I think our daughter is starting to forget what you look like," Bucky says. He's kind of joking, but not really. Cherise frowns. She knows that Bucky will come down there to get her and bring her home if she ever stays that late again.

          "I mean it, James. I'll be home no later than eight."

          "Good," he says, sounding a little bit relieved.

          "How was your workout? How's Steve?"

          "Brutal. And great."

          "Tell him I said hi?"

          "I will, baby. We're headed for a quick bite, then I'm gonna pick up Stina from his and Nat's." Cherise pictures Bucky tucking their little girl into bed again, by himself.

          "I think we need to maybe get a new babysitter—not that Nat and Steve aren’t willing to watch for us. But I don't want to always have to burden them. You know how Stina can be difficult some days," Bucky explains. She sighs, but smiles. Christina does _not_ like being told what to do, especially by people who aren't her parents.

          "Okay—we can talk about that when I get home. I just have a meeting. It should only be about an hour, then I'll come straight home."

          "Good, 'cause I wanted to talk with you about something else," Bucky adds. Cherise pauses outside her office door.

          "What's wrong?"

          "Nothing…just something that's been on my mind for a while now."

          "Okay."

          "I'll see you at home. I love you, Cherry."

          "I love you, James." And he hangs up the phone without another word. The fact that he wouldn't say over the phone what he wants to discuss irks Cherise. She didn't think there was anything wrong with their usual babysitter; she was a local college sophomore, clean background (thanks to Steve and Bucky looking into her themselves), honor student on the track to education, loved kids, and actually got along with Christina, who, as Bucky rightfully stated, could be difficult some days.

 

          Cherise walks through the door a bit after 7:00PM to find Bucky washing the dishes in the kitchen. He smiles upon seeing her.

          "Mrs. Barnes," he says, cocking a brunette brow, "Glad you could make it just after dinner." He looks ready to get in bed, standing there in the blue plaid pajama pants she'd bought him for Christmas and a form-fitting white t-shirt, his shoulder length brown hair tucked in a neat ponytail at the back of his head. She pauses a moment to eye his muscular stature, something she still does at times, even after years of marriage. Sometimes, Cherise still can't believe how beautiful her centenarian husband is. At this, Cherise grunts satisfactorily, crossing her arms.

          "Oh, be quiet," she says, feigning anger and narrowing her eyes. Bucky laughs.

          "Brought you home some chicken from the regular place. Stina had chicken fingers with Nat—oh, and grilled cheese," he reports. Christina loved grilled cheese.

          "Oh thank God. I'm wiped. You're _the best_ ," Cherise explains, thankful she won't be having to heat up the mac and cheese she'd made days ago that weekend, knowing that by now there's none left because Bucky has been packing it for Stina's lunch every day. The girl likes her cheese.

          "I know," Bucky says in an airhead sort of way, winking at Cherise, but she knows he's just being cute, "Stina had her bath and is waiting for a bedtime story," he explains, rinsing the last plate and drying his hands on a dishtowel hanging on a chair at the counter. By the time Bucky stands behind Cherise and rubs her shoulders expecting a kiss, she's devouring barbecue chicken. So he settles for rubbing her sides and kissing the top of her head numerous times.

          "Hi," she says shyly. Bucky grins.

          "So, what'd you wanna talk 'bout?" she asks with her mouth half full.

          "Uhmm," Bucky starts, taking the seat beside her and folding his hands on the counter top. Cherise glances at him to find that he's struggling for words. She sighs, swallowing.

          "James, I _promise_ , I'm gonna try to stop running experiments so late—"

          "It's not just that—but I'd love it if you'd consider doing that, too," Bucky states, making eye contact with her. Cherise brushes his knee a moment before spooning up some rice.

          "And, what else did you want to talk about? I love Alexa! She's great with Christina and her rate is reasonable. Why the hell would you want a new babysitter? She _did_ cancel the past two times, but she's about to have midterms—"

          "Nah, I was lying about that, I just didn't know what to say over the phone without telling you…"

          "Yes?"

Bucky looks like a sad puppy for a moment, leaning in to kiss Cherise's temple.

          "Bucky—?"

          "Why don’t you finish eating and getting ready for bed first? I just want you to be comfortable. It’s kinda a huge thing…" he says, rubbing her lower back. He's resting on his elbow, staring at Cherise dreamily.

          "James…what is it? You're starting to fucking scare me," she admits, "Oh my god, is Bob really a Barbara and we're going to have puppies?!" Their brown lab pauses at his bowl to lap before resting at Bucky's feet. Bucky laughs genuinely.

          "Hey boy," he says, glancing down a moment at the dog, "No. You're hilarious, Cherry."

          Cherise stops chewing and turns to face Bucky bodily, "You want a divorce?" she asks. Bucky's heart wrenches and he grabs Cherise's waist with both hands desperately.

          "Baby— _god no_. Jeez, I don't even want to hear you _say_ that kinda shit. No, Cherise."

She sighs with relief and grabs another piece of chicken.

          "I'm sorry. I'm tired," she admits. Bucky kisses her forehead longingly.

          "It's been a long day," she adds.

          " _I know_. You've been having too many of those," he says.

          "Just…get comfortable, okay?"

          "Give me a minute, I'm almost done—"

          "Take your time—"

          "No. I wanna know what this _thing_ is you wanna talk about—and Stina."

By the time they make it to their daughter's room, she's asleep clutching the stuffed unicorn Steve's son James had given to her for her fifth birthday. Cherise and Bucky quietly tuck her in and Bucky patiently waits in bed watching the news while Cherise prepares herself. At last, she stumbles into his lap in nothing but her towel, straddling Bucky. He kisses her hungrily a moment.

          "Now, tell me what's up," she says, breaking the kiss and pulling Bucky's hair out of its ponytail to smooth her fingers through it repeatedly. All of her touches feel good to him and are momentarily distracting, causing him to forget briefly about everything aside from the fact that there's a gorgeous naked woman sitting on him, skin still steaming from her shower. Bucky looks kind of shy a moment, as if he's afraid for Cherise to hear what's on his mind.

          "Well…Stina's becoming such a beautiful young woman, like you." Cherise smiles, kissing Bucky's cleft.

          "And, well, aside from her cousin James a few houses down, she doesn't really have…playmates." Bucky lifts his hands as if presenting something. And then his arms encircle Cherise, gathering her closer to him. She's too tired to understand where he's going with this. She cocks her head to the side as he stares at her, waiting for the proverbial bulb to flicker atop her head. Bucky sighs with some impatience, clicking the television off.

          "I've been thinking…we could have another baby."

Cherise's eyes widen. Bucky starts to rub her back.

          "James—"

          "Just hear me out, okay?" he interrupts, her tone already confirming for him that she's not in love with the idea. Cherise is silent.

          "Baby, I love you more than anything. Cherise—you and Christina—you ladies are the reason I _breathe_ …" Cherise's eyes well up and she smiles. Bucky pauses to caress her cheek, "Steve reminded me tonight that he's my brother…and…I think about how much harder it woulda been for me growing up if I didn't have him. I mean, I know I was an orphan—and thank God Stina has the two of us, but I've been wanting her to have _more_ lately. I feel like…I dunno, she might have better social skills if she's a big sis. She seems to get…lonely. Bob's not enough. She loves that old mutt, but we both know he's only got another two or three years left in him, bless his heart…" Cherise is still looking a bit bewildered. Bucky strokes her hip under the towel.

          "Well…Bucky…I don't know," Cherise states, shrugging, her tone fragile, Bucky knowing she's not trying to just shut down his fantasy. He looks away to try and recover from his disappointment, but he knows his wife has already seen it. She sighs, placing her hands on his chest.

          "Oh, James…I think that's so sweet. I _really_ do…"

          "But," he says, bowing his head forward a moment, egging her on. Cherise sighs, tucking his hair behind his ear.

          "That pregnancy was one of the most difficult things I've ever been through," Cherise states calmly. Swallowing hard, Bucky recalls this. He stares down regretfully for a few seconds before meeting Cherise's eyes again. He presses his forehead to hers apologetically, the two of them silent for a passing minute.

          "On top of that, Bucky, I may not even be _able_ to get pregnant a second time, anyway. Would you really want to invite all that pain again?" she asks genuinely.

          "I know it was painful, baby, for both of us, but especially you…even so, we got through it, didn't we? And we had our Stina. We never would have if we just gave up." She nods in agreement, but he can tell by the look on her face that she's still unsure of this idea. She sighs, closing her eyes. And when she doesn't speak, Bucky breaks the silence.

          "It's something I've really been wanting for Stina…but you're right, Cherry. I shouldn't've…I don't know what I was thinking to ask you this." The way that Cherise watches Bucky deflate breaks her heart. It's as if she can feel him physically weaken beneath her as he drops back against the headboard and stares through her, his grip around her waist weakening as he gets lost in thought.

          "James—"

And he snaps out of it at the sound of her voice, meeting her eyes, "No, baby. I remember how heartbreaking it was for us when we kept failing trying to have Christina. I don't want to put you through hell again." And just like that, Cherise starts to cry. Bucky wishes he had kept his stupid mouth shut, regretting ruining an otherwise enjoyable Thursday night.

          "I'm such an idiot," he says to himself, clutching Cherise tighter, "Baby—I'm _so_ sorry. Please don't cry—"

          "She _is_ lonely, James! You're not wrong," Cherise states. He realizes she's less upset about memories of past failure when they were trying to conceive and more about what he'd said regarding their daughter.

          "Cherry—"

          "Fuck, I've been so _selfish_ —I've been _so_ … _bad_ to you and to Christina—working in my lab on _weekends_! I'm a terrible mother! …Hell, I'm a terrible wife! When was the last time we had sex? I haven't actually put together Stina's lunch in _two weeks,_ James— _two weeks_ —"

          "Hey, hey, hey," he interrupts, clutching Cherise's shoulders and forcing her to look at him, "Don't ever let me hear you say those words again. You're the _perfect_ mom, the _perfect_ wife, and I love you. I get it—I really do—you've reached a groundbreaking point in your career since Banner came back. Things weren't like this before then. I know you're just trying to finish a project."

          "I'm sorry," she says, her voice still broken. Bucky hugs her like his life depends on it, pulling her back a ways and setting her so that her butt is on the mattress and she's facing him, still straddling him.

          "No, _I'm_ sorry…I shouldn't even have said this. I just…sometimes I think about it, and I want a boy. That's all," he says, laughing briefly without humor, "I hate to say it, but I guess…I _sometimes_ get a little jealous of Steve teaching James Jr. how to throw a baseball, and all Stina wants to do is braid my hair and color." To Bucky's relief, his wife laughs, wiping her nose. He reaches over on the nightstand to grab a handful of tissues and start wiping her eyes. She takes the tissues from him and blows her nose.

          "You're fucking cute, James Barnes," she says, throwing the tissue wad for the small waste bin by the door and missing. She shrugs, too tired to get up and take care of it.

          "And for the record, I _like_ making Stina's lunches. She says my grilled cheese is better than yours— _almost_ as good as uncle Steve's—but pretty close."

Bucky is relieved to have Cherise laughing in his arms then. She eventually calms down, resting her head on his shoulder.

          "But, yeah, you're right…it was _literally_ a few years, right…? Before you even got pregnant with Stina…? Steve's son was, like…oh my god—four…?"

          "Mhmmm," she mumbles, nodding against his shoulder.

          "I think that's a sign that I should just shut the hell up and count the blessings I already have. It's almost summer vacation time and I was thinking we could take Stina somewhere nice when you finally get a break from all your research. What do you think, baby?" Cherise responds by kissing Bucky's shoulder. And gradually, he rolls her out beneath him, the towel she's wrapped in giving way. Bucky gazes down just as longingly as ever at Cherise's body, his eyes scanning southwards from her face, and pausing where he'd spotted her cesarean scar. She purses her lips, motioning to cover the mild mar. It has healed so finely that if Bucky did not know exactly where to look for it, he might not have seen it. It's a testament to the difficulty of her pregnancy.

          Bucky moves Cherise's hands away from the area, pushing her further up the bed and kneeling to kiss the scar gratefully.

          "Speaking of vacations somewhere nice…like…with beaches and bikinis, I've been thinking of getting a pretty little tattoo over that—"    

          "What?!" Bucky interrupts, the loudness of his voice causing her to jump. He catches Cherise's eyes, " _Never_ —don't you _dare_. I won't accept that." Cherise lifts her head to see that Bucky is deadly serious. He hadn't realized _just_ how self conscious Cherise has always been about this scar, tending to cover it up when he fixates on it every now and then. And he doesn't understand why she tends to treat it with what seems like such shame.

          To him, she would look beautiful no matter how many scars were on her body. Seeing this particular one always makes him melt, to think about all they've been through just to earn the scar in the first place. In Bucky's eyes, this scar is the most beautiful thing on Cherise's body, and the thought of her deliberately trying to find a permanent solution to hide it from him and the rest of the world breaks his heart to pieces.

          "Alright, _alright_. I hear you, sergeant," she says, smiling shyly.

          "That spot belongs to my baby girl, Christina Natasha Barnes," he says, scanning the scar again, rubbing his thumbs across it, closing his perfect blue eyes and kissing it like it's hallowed ground.

          "Okay, okay," Cherise breathes, laughing lightly and letting her head drop back against the quilt.

          "And _don't_ you ever forget it," Bucky adds, smiling against Cherise's skin. She sighs.

          "Know what? You owe me an orgasm," Cherise states, eying the ceiling. Bucky crawls over her, into her field of vision. He cocks a brow suggestively, slowly smiling without teeth.

          "I mean, 'cause that phone call got me going right before my meeting at work."

          "Did it?" he asks, slowly dropping his weight against her. Cherise nods, reaching up to wrap her arms around his strong neck.

          "Mhmm. Especially the part where you said you wanted to lie me in bed and make love to me all night." She speaks so innocently but Bucky's heart starts pumping faster.

          "Hmmm, I dunno if you can handle that and still get up and run in the morning. You know you're gonna need time to recover. How will you make it to work?" He asks, finding it hard to keep a straight face. Cherise blinks slowly, with all the sleepiness of an overworked woman.

          "I'm gonna play hooky. What do you think?"

He attacks her with the most satisfying kiss she's ever received.


End file.
